


Winter vacation gone wrong

by Tyrelingkitten



Series: GWblockparty tropes [3]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Gwblockparty, M/M, Tropes, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 05:38:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11983299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyrelingkitten/pseuds/Tyrelingkitten
Summary: AU - The aftermath of a bad fall in the snow featuring Quatre, a cabin stranger and a cabin.A sequel forthis one.For theGWblockparty End of Summer Tropefest 2017.





	Winter vacation gone wrong

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lil_1337](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lil_1337/gifts).



> A long overdue fanfic that you once asked many years ago. I apologize for taking so long to gift you this. You're one of my inspirations in the GW fandom. <3
> 
>  **Trope:** Cuddling for warmth

The storm raged on the whole night. Quatre knew this because he had been keeping his eyes on the clock ever since Trowa had finally decided not to pester him with his too-charming presence. The wind howled outside the walls of the cabin. (Hopefully not exactly wind spirits asking Quatre to open the door for them.) Thick snow had obscured the windows in layers of white and gray. It was too difficult to make out some path that would lead him back to the Resort Quatre and his family had booked. Not in this weather. Thank goodness Trowa had found him before the storm hit. Quatre would be dead by now if he were still out there. 

 

Trowa had the forethought to offer him the phone--the only means of contact that connected the cabin owner with the world outside these wooden walls--and Quatre had immediately left a message at the Resort’s front desk, telling his family that he was alive and he was hiding out from the storm in a cabin in the middle of nowhere. If the storm continued to last longer than one night, like Trowa had predicted, at least Quatre had left his family a clue where to check first once the storm passed. 

 

Next time, Quatre decided, he’d definitely go to the Caribbeans and become a beach bum. Much better than freezing his ass on the wooden floor. 

 

Despite the cabin having the right insulations to keep the worst cold at bay, Quatre’s body still shivered. He pulled the blanket closer around his huddled body and pressed his nose into the scarf.

 

His clothes got wet during his tumble down the mountains and were hanging in the bathroom to dry. All he was wearing were some of Trowa’s spare clothes: a thick woolen sweater with a rather creepy-looking Santa Claus, thick leggings that were a little too long and fuzzy socks. To ward off the cold that seem to be seeping into Quatre’s very being, Trowa had lent him a scarf and the throw blanket from the couch. 

 

That was starting to be a very bad idea. 

 

Everything smelled like Trowa. 

 

“Of course, you can always slip into my bed.” Trowa had offered way too smoothly after he had done patching Quatre up. “After all, human warmth is the best comfort in this weather.”

 

“No, thanks.” Quatre had muttered. Though it was really tempting to accept, especially when Trowa had this really funny way of laughing and DAMMIT QUATRE DON’T START MAKING MOONEY EYES NOW. 

 

Trowa was probably lulling him into security. That’s what all serial killers do. He’d read enough to know the signs to spot someone suspicious. 

 

Now Quatre started to regret his decision a little to sit here instead of accepting the offer. 

 

Quatre threw another log into the fireplace. The fire crackled and Quatre coughed. Who knew having an actual working fireplace could be too smoky for his lungs? 

 

His eyes burned from staring too long at the bright embers and his body felt heavy from exhaustion. How much longer was he going to sit in front of this fireplace and alternative stare at the clock hanging above the fireplace and the dancing fire? How much longer was this storm going to rage? 

 

His eyelids grew heavy and tired. 

 

Quatre fought against sleep until he could no longer keep his eyes peeled. 

 

*

 

Quatre woke up very warm and very comfortable. He curled up closer to the heat, sighing softly, held his pillow tighter to his chest and threw a leg across it, smacking his dry lips--ugh bad breath. He forgot to brush his teeth last night. What did he eat again? Last night was maybe stew--or was it-- 

 

Quatre frowned and patted his pillow. It was too solid for a pillow. Too hard. Did his pillow just laugh? He peeled open his eyes in confusion and looked around the room that was definitely NOT his bedroom at home. 

 

“Good morning, Quatre.” his not-pillow said.

 

His stomach instantly dropped. Quatre scrambled backwards to get away but miscalculated his situation and found himself entangled with the blankets and the scarf and the not-pillow (“Ow! Quatre, my balls!”), and finally ended tumbling down the bed, staring at the ceiling.

 

This was a dream. A nightmare. He blinked at the wooden beams of the ceiling and reality finally settled in. Oh no.

 

“It’s a good thing I think you’re funny.” Trowa’s face hovered above him as the cabin owner looked down the from bed, his face pale and scrunched in pain. “Otherwise I’d kick you out already”

 

Quatre whimpered. Ah his balls. Trowa’s. 

 

He raised his hands to hide his face in shame. “Sorry. I’ll make it up to you. I’ll pay for the medical fees!”

 

“We’ll talk about that later. Now come back to bed. You must be freezing your skinny ass down there.” Trowa sat on the edge of the bed and leaned over to pull Quatre up on his feet. 

 

Quatre let out an enraged squawk. “My ass is not skinny!” 

 

“That’s what you got from my message?” Trowa sniggered and without warning, he gave Quatre  a squeeze. “Ah, you’re right. Not that skinny. Not by much.”  

 

“That’s not--did you just--you can’t just cop a feel and expect me not to cop yours!” Quatre cried out before he could stop himself. Then he stared wide-eyed at Trowa, who mirrored his shocked look as well and wished for the floor to open up underneath his feet.

 

“See. You’re hilarious!” Trowa finally said, smirking.  

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
